Author's Note: I'm putting this in the BtVS section, but in reality it's a
BtVS/Fray crossover. For all Buffy fans out there, don't start screaming.
Fray is a comic about a Slayer in the future, by Joss Whedon and
everything. I recommend reading the comics before reading this, though. And
if your thinking, "Oh, I'll read this and if Fray sounds good then I'll
read it" just stop right now. This fanfic gives away TONS about Fray,
seeing how it takes place *after* the comics.
Ever since Urkonn betrayed me, I guess I haven't trusted easy. So sue me. Urkonn was the closest thing I ever had to a Watcher – he trained me, taught me about being a Slayer, and unlike my real watcher, he didn't set himself on fire before even telling me what the hell a "Chosen One" was. So big deal, he was a demon. He wanted to fight lurks, though, so I was on board. But when things weren't working out, he and the goons got desperate -they killed someone I cared about, all the time pretending Harth and his lurks did it.
He's dead now.
But that won't bring Loo back.
Where was I? Oh, yeah. So I have problems trusting people. So what else is new? I have a sister in the laws, so I can't exactly tell her that I got a cut of a grab. Sister or not, she'd arrest me. And Harth, my other half , was . . . dead? No, that wasn't right. Undead.
So when the next Watcher-figure came into my life, I didn't exactly give him my trust.
I was at a tav. Not the one that Amma and Jove ran, cuz that had too many memories. Some other tav. Guy behind the counter was a pump. Still, good drinks, so who cared?
I didn't notice him at first. Tavs usually draw all types of weird people. There's raddies, pumps, and probably a few demons. Only thing you can't find in a tav is a lurk, but that's because most lurks stick to the dark streets and only surface when their inner demon is screaming at them for blood. Even Icarus, one of the few lurks in control of himself, seldom mixed with humans.
The guy wasn't tall, but he wasn't short, either. He had blond hair, dyed blue at the tips, and just long enough to fall into his eyes. He had defined cheekbones and a scar through an eyebrow, but amidst robotic arms and eyes dulled by radiation, you don't really notice those types of things. All I knew was that he looked human. He sat down the counter a couple seats, sipping some indistinguishable drink. The only thing that struck me odd about him was his coat. For an instant I thought it was real leather, but it couldn't be. Real leather was only found in the uppers, where people could get special grants for it.
So here I am, sipping at my drink, minding my own business. Gunther didn't have any grab for me to do, it was too early to get any slaying in, and so I was relaxing. What I didn't count on was him recognizing me.
"Melaka?"
I looked up, and there he was. "What's it to you?" I asked, squinting suspiciously. He had sunglasses over his eyes. Slightly strange, yes, but the only reason I noticed is that I usually look people straight ion the eye when talking to them. This may seem like manners or something, but I do it because I find it intimidates people.
"Harth Fray's sister, yeah?"
I narrowed my eyes even more. Part of me wanted to yell, Harth's not just my brother, he's my twin. The other part thought it was weird that this guy was referring to me as the sister of a guy who'd officially died four years ago.
"Why?"
"Listen, pet, answer my questions and maybe I'll help you. Okay?"
I nodded reluctantly.
"Did you know Urkonn?"
"Yeah. Why? You work for his bosses? 'Cause if you do, I want you to tell them I won their damned war, what else do they want."
"First off, I work for no one. Second, you won a battle, love. The war is far from over. Harth's still out there, with flocks of lurks ready to follow him at a moments notice."
"Why should I care?" I asked. I did care, but I didn't trust this creep.
He sighed. "Mel, you know Harth has a personal vendetta against you. You're his other half. He's the Slayer heritage, you're the Slayer strength. He won't stop until he can do whatever he bloody well pleases with you. And what about your sister, Erin? Do you think she's safe?"
Okay, so he was striking a nerve. "So, what am I supposed to do? I slay every night, I –"
"Patrol."
"What?"
"When you go out and kill vampires – er, lurks. It's called patrolling."
I looked at him, stunned, for a bit after that. "So, what else can I do? I mean, I'm not even a complete Slayer."
"That's what I'm here for, love."
And so, I met my new Watcher.
TBC
Ever since Urkonn betrayed me, I guess I haven't trusted easy. So sue me. Urkonn was the closest thing I ever had to a Watcher – he trained me, taught me about being a Slayer, and unlike my real watcher, he didn't set himself on fire before even telling me what the hell a "Chosen One" was. So big deal, he was a demon. He wanted to fight lurks, though, so I was on board. But when things weren't working out, he and the goons got desperate -they killed someone I cared about, all the time pretending Harth and his lurks did it.
He's dead now.
But that won't bring Loo back.
Where was I? Oh, yeah. So I have problems trusting people. So what else is new? I have a sister in the laws, so I can't exactly tell her that I got a cut of a grab. Sister or not, she'd arrest me. And Harth, my other half , was . . . dead? No, that wasn't right. Undead.
So when the next Watcher-figure came into my life, I didn't exactly give him my trust.
I was at a tav. Not the one that Amma and Jove ran, cuz that had too many memories. Some other tav. Guy behind the counter was a pump. Still, good drinks, so who cared?
I didn't notice him at first. Tavs usually draw all types of weird people. There's raddies, pumps, and probably a few demons. Only thing you can't find in a tav is a lurk, but that's because most lurks stick to the dark streets and only surface when their inner demon is screaming at them for blood. Even Icarus, one of the few lurks in control of himself, seldom mixed with humans.
The guy wasn't tall, but he wasn't short, either. He had blond hair, dyed blue at the tips, and just long enough to fall into his eyes. He had defined cheekbones and a scar through an eyebrow, but amidst robotic arms and eyes dulled by radiation, you don't really notice those types of things. All I knew was that he looked human. He sat down the counter a couple seats, sipping some indistinguishable drink. The only thing that struck me odd about him was his coat. For an instant I thought it was real leather, but it couldn't be. Real leather was only found in the uppers, where people could get special grants for it.
So here I am, sipping at my drink, minding my own business. Gunther didn't have any grab for me to do, it was too early to get any slaying in, and so I was relaxing. What I didn't count on was him recognizing me.
"Melaka?"
I looked up, and there he was. "What's it to you?" I asked, squinting suspiciously. He had sunglasses over his eyes. Slightly strange, yes, but the only reason I noticed is that I usually look people straight ion the eye when talking to them. This may seem like manners or something, but I do it because I find it intimidates people.
"Harth Fray's sister, yeah?"
I narrowed my eyes even more. Part of me wanted to yell, Harth's not just my brother, he's my twin. The other part thought it was weird that this guy was referring to me as the sister of a guy who'd officially died four years ago.
"Why?"
"Listen, pet, answer my questions and maybe I'll help you. Okay?"
I nodded reluctantly.
"Did you know Urkonn?"
"Yeah. Why? You work for his bosses? 'Cause if you do, I want you to tell them I won their damned war, what else do they want."
"First off, I work for no one. Second, you won a battle, love. The war is far from over. Harth's still out there, with flocks of lurks ready to follow him at a moments notice."
"Why should I care?" I asked. I did care, but I didn't trust this creep.
He sighed. "Mel, you know Harth has a personal vendetta against you. You're his other half. He's the Slayer heritage, you're the Slayer strength. He won't stop until he can do whatever he bloody well pleases with you. And what about your sister, Erin? Do you think she's safe?"
Okay, so he was striking a nerve. "So, what am I supposed to do? I slay every night, I –"
"Patrol."
"What?"
"When you go out and kill vampires – er, lurks. It's called patrolling."
I looked at him, stunned, for a bit after that. "So, what else can I do? I mean, I'm not even a complete Slayer."
"That's what I'm here for, love."
And so, I met my new Watcher.
TBC
